


Stupid Sexy Things

by imlikat



Series: Stupid Sexy Things [3]
Category: Bleach
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Boys Kissing, Condoms, Crack Relationships, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Masturbation, Masturbation in Shower, So much kissing, urgency
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:46:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25243366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imlikat/pseuds/imlikat
Summary: Kon doesn't get a body very often. When he does, getting Keigo naked with him is PRIORITY NUMBER ONE.
Relationships: Asano Keigo/Kon
Series: Stupid Sexy Things [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1846648
Comments: 5
Kudos: 28





	Stupid Sexy Things

Kon knows these rooftops so well he could make the run in his sleep; he's made the late-night sprint from the Kurosaki clinic to Keigo's apartment almost a dozen times now.  
  
Loose shingle there, that one gets too slippery when it rains, watch for birds here, this jump is easier than it looks. He's almost there, and it's an easy run, but his heart is banging around in his ribs anyway.  
  
He couldn't get Keigo on the phone. Doesn't mean anything; sometimes Keigo turns it off at night. Sometimes Mizuho makes him turn it off. All that means though is that he'll be waking Keigo up, and that's fine by him. Keigo's pretty cute when he's just waking up.  
  
This last bit's tricky. Wind plastering his hair back, he leaps off the last rooftop, wide across a major street, and catches himself on a drainpipe on the opposite building. Then slides down, hands burning from the friction. Trotting the half block to Keigo's window, he wipes rusty paint flecks onto the front of his shirt.  
  
Not even breathing hard, he taps on Keigo's window. “Keigo!” he hisses, then taps again. Then waits impatiently, bouncing from one foot to the other as his muscles cool. There's some noise coming from inside though, so it's good.  
  
The curtains slide back, and there's Keigo's face. It's a hopeful face, even with his eyes puffy and his cheek striped with pillow wrinkles. The hope turns into excitement, eyes trying to open wide but not quite making it, and his mouth splits in a huge sleepy grin. _Really_ cute. Keigo wrestles the window open and Kon tumbles in, and he's kissing Keigo before he even gets his second leg clear of the windowsill.  
  
Keigo's not wearing a shirt. Then three seconds later he's not wearing his pajama pants, and good thing he was going commando, because Kon might not have been able to wait to get his hand around Keigo's cock. It's soft and silky, and it goes all fat in Kon's hand as he slurps on Keigo's tongue and contorts himself so that Keigo can pull the shirt off of him. Most of the way, anyway; it gets tangled up somehow around Kon's head and shoulder, and he pulls back with a disgruntled snort to rip it over his head.  
  
“How long?” Keigo asks, breathless as he slips Ichigo's too-stylish pajama pants down over Kon's hips. Pajama pants because no way was Kon going to waste the time to change once he was slammed into Ichigo's body. He leaves his shoes on now, because no way is he wasting the time to take them off when he's got Keigo naked.  
  
“Dunno. Was an—” Kon grunts as Keigo grabs his ass and yanks him forward, tumbling them both onto his bed.  
  
“Emergency,” Kon says over the sound of squeaking bedsprings. And they both know what that means. Five minutes, half an hour, all night; there's no way to tell. Five minutes have already passed—Ichigo could conceivably show up at any minute.  
  
So they rush; they always rush when it's like this. Wet, sloppy kisses, tongues sliding around and spit getting everywhere. It's loud, too—little grunts and moans and wet smacking sounds. Kon's on top, and he's rolling his hips, hard and desperate, and Keigo's cock is like a hot stone against his belly.  
  
“Whayouwa?” Kon asks, his lower lip caught between Keigo's teeth.  
  
Keigo makes this nasally frustrated noise, clutching Kon's hair hard enough to hurt. “All kinds of stuff.” It's been weeks since they've had this chance, and yeah, Kon can dig it. He ruts against Keigo's belly, licking the side of his mouth and then his cheek, affectionately slathering spit over the little ridges of his pillow marks. Then he twirls his tongue inside of Keigo's ear, breathing out hot.  
  
“Aah, jesus, faaauh,” Keigo babbles. His dick is wet now, and if he doesn't make his mind up soon, Kon's gonna just scoot down and suck it. But then Keigo pants, “Do me, okay?”  
  
“Kay,” Kon says against his throat. Then he pulls off so he can reach Keigo's bedside table and fish out the lube and condoms he keeps there. On his way back up, he licks a wet, wobbly line from the base of Keigo's perfectly hard cock to his tip, into his navel, then up along his ribs to flick over his nipple. If he hadn't run out of spit he'd do more, but his tongue's desert-dry now.  
  
Only one solution: he thrusts his tongue into Keigo's mouth as he twists open the lube, props himself up on one elbow and reaches down between Keigo's legs.  
  
“Hurry,” Keigo says, darting his eyes toward the open window. Wouldn't have done any good to close it; no good against a shinigami, anyway. Kon doesn't answer, only shoves two slippery fingers into Keigo and starts wiggling them around.  
  
“Hargh, ffff—” Keigo says before Kon cuts him off with another messy kiss. He loves fingering Keigo, loves sucking on his tongue, loves getting Keigo's spit all over him. If they had time, he'd kiss Keigo stupid, kiss him until their lips and cheeks and chins were red and raw from rubbing together.  
  
But there's no time. If they're in the middle of fooling around when Ichigo gets back, he'd never let them finish. This they know from experience. If he gets back in the middle, he'll devise some sort of humiliating punishment for Kon, like Kon's not his own person who has his own desires, and even his own boyfriend, even though he's stuck in that stupid lion thing ninety-nine percent of the time.  
  
Keigo's humping up at him now, his dick smearing wet on the inside of Kon's elbow, and he sounds like he's trying to talk into Kon's mouth. He's not. It's just this cute thing he does when he's horny and ready, and it makes Kon grin, ecstatic.  
  
“This way? Or turn over?” Kon asks, his eyes caught on the dark, swollen softness of Keigo's mouth.  
  
Keigo moans, then pushes up at Kon's chest. Keeps pushing, and Kon's fingers pop out of him, and Keigo's climbing up onto the bed. On his elbows and knees, legs spread at a well-practiced angle.  
  
Kon curses and steps forward, his dick waving up in the air. Almost freaking prehensile, like it's dragging Kon toward Keigo. It's exactly even with Keigo's asshole, and he barely remembers to roll a condom on himself—Ichigo would literally try to kill him if he popped in on them barebacking—before he grips Keigo's hips and starts fucking his way in.  
  
It's been a while—in teenager time, it's been _years_ —and he thinks he might jizz as soon as he's halfway in, burrowing into Keigo's ass with little hitches of his hips. “Keigo, fuck,” he says in appreciation, and maybe a little warning.  
  
“Hhr, rrf,” Keigo replies, his face buried in a pillow, because that's the only way to keep him quiet sometimes. Seems like this is one of those times; he's almost hyperventilating, every exhale a shaky moan, and Kon's barely even banging him yet.  
  
Kon loves it. Makes him feel like he's fucking awesome in the sack. Keigo makes sounds that Kon would never have even imagined before—and he imagines sex a _lot_ , the sights and tastes and sounds—makes faces that that porn stars would be embarrassed to make. Wiggles around like he has no idea what his body is doing. Keigo still surprises him all the time, with some new weird sexy thing he does. It's incredible, and each new thing makes Kon want to just kiss him and fuck him and never stop. Makes Kon want to _keep_ him.  
  
“Fucking, shit,” Kon says, his eyes wanting to roll back now that he's balls-deep in Keigo's hot, slowly wriggling ass. “Gonna fuck you now,” he says, and Keigo's back arches and shivers as he says some other unintelligible thing into his pillow, his asshole clenching around Kon's buried dick, and yeah, Kon is pretty much totally in love with him.  
  
It only takes a few seconds of warmup before Kon is plowing into him, his hips slapping Keigo's ass hard and fast. Like applause almost, clap clap clap clap! The sound of it echoes in the room along with bouncing bedsprings and Keigo's muffled, near-constant high keening. Gripping Keigo's hips hard so that he doesn't scooch up the mattress, Kon lets his mouth fall open and bangs him like his life depends on it. He's sweaty and panting, going huh, huh, huh as he chases his orgasm down. It's right there, right within reach, already glowing around his edges.  
  
“Keigo, you gonna come?” he asks.  
  
“Hnngh!” Keigo whines, his mouth coming up off the pillow as his back bows up, going goose-bumpy all over, and _fuck_ is that sexy. It's not really an answer though, so Kon figures he should probably help him along a little.  
  
Ichigo's body is big and strong, and it makes things like wrapping an arm around and yanking Keigo's top half up easy, tugging him back until only his spread knees are on the bed—and now Keigo's head is leaned back against Kon's shoulder, and Kon plasters one hand over his mouth before he wraps the other one around his cock. God, it's big and juicy and fucking soaked, and Kon moans and jacks Keigo off, and fucks up into Keigo's hot hole.  
  
Keigo's tensing rhythmically, rocking down on his cock and licking at Kon's palm, moaning and poking his tongue out to lick the sensitive webs between Kon's fingers.  
  
“Shit!” Kon hisses, his orgasm blasting through him with a suddenness and intensity that actually blanks out his hearing and sight for a few seconds, like someone let off a flash grenade. He shoves in deep, spurting off into the condom with his open mouth buried in the crook of Keigo's neck. He barely has the presence of mind to close his hand over Keigo's mouth, to try to catch the loud, helpless moans he's making now. Kon slowed his jerking-off hand when he came, couldn't help it, but Keigo's still hard and trembly all over, still right there on the edge, so Kon keeps moving his hips, squishing his softening dick around in Keigo's ass. He strokes faster, his fingers getting drenched, and licks up Keigo's neck to his ear.  
  
“Yeah, yeah, fucking hot,” he whispers, and he knows it's as much the feel of the humid breath in Keigo's ear as the words that sets Keigo off. Come floods out of him. It shoots out in long, impressive arcs onto Keigo's sheets, then short spurts that coat Kon's hand with sticky heat. And goddamn, his ass is quivering and clenching around Kon's oversensitized dick, and he whimpers a little against the side of Keigo's hot face as his butt squeezes down hard, forcing Kon to slide out of him.  
  
“Hell yeah,” Keigo rasps when Kon uncovers his mouth, and they collapse forward bonelessly on the bed together. Kon licks the sweat off the back of Keigo's neck, then nuzzles into his damp hair. He should probably be going soon—time feels like it's running out, it always does, and it's best to get a shower before Ichigo needs his body back if he wants to avoid an uncomfortable week or two. And it's not like Keigo gets away unscathed, either. He's still a little too worried about Ichigo's opinion of him, even if he thinks he covers it up with melodrama.  
  
Kon kisses the back of Keigo's head and gives him an awkward hug, both of his hands pleasantly gross.  
  
“I've been missing you,” Keigo says, turning a little to look up at him.  
  
“Me too,” Kon says, then he jumps at the loud banging on Keigo's bedroom door.  
  
“I'm giving you thirty seconds to get dressed, then I'm kicking both of your asses out, naked or not!” Mizuho shouts, louder than they've ever been.  
  
Keigo's eyes widen comically huge, and Kon's not exactly calm about it, either. He has freaking nightmares about Keigo's sister.  
  
“Twenty-seven. I'm not kidding, you perverts!”  
  
“Okay, okay!” Keigo calls back, and Kon's shoving up off the bed, stripping off his condom to toss it into the waste bin and yanking on his pajama pants. He tosses Keigo his shirt then pulls his own on, glad he never took off his shoes. He's rummaging through Keigo's drawers for a change of clothes when Mizuho speaks up again.  
  
“Five seconds,” she says, dangerously low. He knows she skipped about ten seconds, but he can feel her radiating some freaky killing intent through the door, so he's not about to argue.  
  
They're pretty much finished, anyway. Keigo's only got one sock on, but—  
  
“Come on,” Kon says, and he grabs Keigo's wrist and yanks him through the window with him. They land in the street outside just in time to hear the door inside bang open, and without even thinking about it, Kon swings Keigo up onto his back and is off and running.  
  
They're a block away and Keigo's finally stopped sputtering and gotten a good hold on Kon's shoulders when he asks, “What are we doing?”  
  
Kon's climbing a trellis. “We'll shower at my place,” he says, then tucks Keigo's bundled clothes inside Keigo's wrapped-around arms to free his hand.  
  
“Is that even okay?” Keigo asks, tensing up.  
  
“Nothing against it in the rules,” Kon says, shrugging. It's difficult to do while climbing and giving a piggyback, but he manages.  
  
The rules are pretty straightforward: _If you're going to screw, use condoms. Don't put anything weird in my butt. Always shower afterwards. And brush your teeth if you... you know. And if you're going to be doing Keigo, don't do anyone else... I really don't want to wonder whose ass I was in while I was out,_ Ichigo had said, after the freakout the first time he'd come back to find Keigo straddling Kon's hips, the two of them performing a very moist dry-hump and making out like they'd invented it. The rules had been modified to include _No goddamn hickies_ about a month later, and Kon had been taped down at the bottom of Ichigo's underwear drawer for five days, until the stippled pink love bite on his neck had finally faded.  
  
Kon hoists them up from the trellis onto the roof and takes off in a loping jog. He says, “I'm supposed to shower, so we'll shower.” He tries to smile over his shoulder, but when he turns his head Keigo's eyes are wide and scared.  
  
Ah, the rooftop run. “I do this all the time, it's safe,” Kon says, turning up the wattage on his smile.  
  
But Keigo's eyes only go wider. “Eyes on the road! The— the roof! You—chimney!”  
  
Kon looks away from Keigo's terrified face in time to swerve around a chimney. Oops.  
  
“We're almost there,” he says, chagrined.  
  
They make the rest of the run in silence, and Kon carefully unlocks the door to the Kurosaki clinic and steps inside before he lets Keigo down off his back. Keigo's feet land on the entrance mat, and he looks down at them quizzically before he strips off his one sock and drops it next to Kon's shoes beside the door.  
  
“That was, it was kind of fun,” Keigo says in a whisper, and that weight of making Keigo unhappy that had so briefly filled Kon with gloom lifts immediately.  
  
“It is! I love doing that at night,” Kon says, grinning at Keigo in the darkness. The clinic doesn't have any lights on, because it doesn't have any overnight patients. Which means they can use the shower in here without having to be _too_ quiet.  
  
There's still the feel of time passing too quickly, so Kon steers Keigo in the direction of the clinic's little shower. It's in a bathroom tucked into the corner, a tiny little cubicle supplied with a showerhead, shampoo and soap, and little else. Not that they need more; all they need right now is the sex stink off their bodies.  
  
Kon strips Keigo, then lets Keigo do the same to him; just because they're in a hurry doesn't mean they have to skip _all_ the fun stuff. They squeeze into the shower and turn the water on hot, let it soak them before they turn it off.  
  
Keigo grabs the soap and starts lathering up his hands. “We're gonna smell like Ichigo's dad,” he says, wrinkling his nose.  
  
Kon laughs. “Would you still like me if I looked like Ichigo's dad?” It's a game they've been playing since almost the beginning. Kon is Kon, only a soul, didn't even have a name before Ichigo gave it to him, and it's just happenstance that got him tied up with Ichigo anyway. Lucky thing, that, as Ichigo saved his life and all, but... he could have wound up in any kind of body.  
  
“Of course I would,” Keigo says, just like he said when Kon pointed out the scrawny little transfer student in third period, the old man with the cane, the heavy-set woman in a bright copper wig walking four dogs, the scary guy with all the piercings that lurks at the corner store down the street. Then, “Stupid,” Keigo says affectionately, also just like always, and kisses Kon.  
  
Terribly pleased, totally overcome with good feelings, Kon steals the soap and starts washing Keigo's body. He's scrubbing quick and enthusiastic, moving Keigo around like a mannequin to get to all his hidden parts, and by the time he gets to Keigo's cock, he's not surprised to find him hard. He is, too. Keigo's rubbing soap down his belly and into his gingery pubic hair, and Kon's stroking suds up and down Keigo's dick, reaching under to soap his balls, dangling there in their loose sac. He palms them affectionately, then groans as Keigo gives him a long, slick, luxurious stroke.  
  
They end up jerking each other off against the wall of the shower, kissing and sighing the whole time, and when they come within seconds of each other, the soap has dried itchy on their skin. Which means they have to start washing all over again.  
  
Kon doesn't mind, not at all. And he's still in Ichigo's body when they're dry and Keigo's dressed in the clean clothes Kon grabbed for him. Kon wraps a towel around his waist, feeling absolutely drunk on all this quality time he's getting with Keigo tonight. He glances over at him, and Keigo's staring at his bare chest.  
  
Kon grins. “You still horny?”  
  
“Nah. Just happy.” Keigo shrugs, smiling back, and Kon grabs his hand and guides him out of the clinic and into the house proper. He eases the door closed behind him and holds a finger up to his lips, and they tiptoe up to Ichigo's room. The house is filled with soft, sleepy sounds—clocks ticking and windows creaking, and Isshin snoring like a beast in his bedroom—and Kon takes a second to peek in on Karin and Yuzu. They're both asleep, huddled in warm little bundles under their covers.  
  
Quietly, Kon closes and locks the door behind him when they finally get into Ichigo's room. He's still holding Keigo's hand, and he pulls him into a hug before he lets go to dig out some fresh pajama bottoms. Get the fucking over with, then they're free to cuddle—it's a funny way to do it, but it works, and he likes it.  
  
Keigo's shifting from foot to foot, his lips a slanted line. “Shouldn't I like... go home?”  
  
Kon considers. “I'm not sure? I don't know if there's rule about that. But... I want you to stay? If you want to?”  
  
“I do?” Keigo says, worrying the hem of his shirt. “But when Ichigo gets back?”  
  
And Kon snickers and has to jam his hand over his mouth, because this talking in questions makes them sound like thirteen year old mall girls.  
  
“I dunno. Maybe he won't get back till tomorrow. Maybe you could just stay awhile, and I'll loan you some shoes to get home. Or... just until he gets back. We won't do sex stuff any more, to be safe.”  
  
Keigo twists the bottom of his shirt between his hands, his face screwed up in indecision, then he finally lets the fabric go. “I'll stay until he gets back. I do want to stay, you know. It's just... Ichigo.” Keigo makes some weird hand gesture along with an exaggerated frown, and Kon stifles a laugh.  
  
“I know. Scary face. He's a jerk. But I'm glad you're staying,” he says, looping an arm around Keigo and kissing him. “You want to lie down?”  
  
It's a couple minutes of kissing before Keigo says, “Yeah.”  
  
He's wearing jeans, so Kon trades him for another clean pair of pajama bottoms that pool around his feet. Doesn't matter though, it's not like he's going to be walking anywhere in them. Kon bundles them off into Ichigo's narrow bed, and under the blankets he kisses Keigo's face and hair and smells Isshin's manly shampoo, and that's pretty funny, so he snickers some more. He's high on Keigo, he knows it.  
  
This, them snuggled together in bed, reminds him of that one glowing weekend when Ichigo had announced he had business in Soul Society, and that he'd be gone for three or four days, and could Kon make sure to check in on Karin and Yuzu? It had been like some kind of gay sex honeymoon, especially since Isshin took the girls on a trip to the beach and then shopping one day and they had the house to themselves for thirteen glorious, sticky, sweetly aching hours. When the family had arrived home, (safe and sound, of course—Kon knew Isshin was a more capable protector than himself), Kon had feigned sleep to hide the fact that he could barely walk he was so sore, and the whole bottom half of his face was chapped.  
  
Didn't stop him from doing it some more that night, after everyone was asleep, either. And Keigo had stayed all three nights with him, arms and legs tangled together, warm, soft skin against his, no question that he was happy to be there. With Kon. That kind of acceptance was pretty much earth-shattering, and it struck Kon dumb sometimes, unable to do anything but hug Keigo and smile, eyes closed. Something of his very own.  
  
“Would you still like me if I was a robot?” Keigo asks in a brief lull between kisses.  
  
Kon grins. “I'd like you if you were just like, a robot head.”  
  
“A watermelon?”  
  
“As long as you could talk to me somehow, yeah. I'd like you if you were anything.”  
  
“Even if I was my sister?”  
  
Kon cracks up in horrified hilarity, smothering the sound against Keigo's shoulder. “I— I— yeah,” he says, tears in his eyes, his chest hitching.  
  
Keigo's shuddering beside him with his own suppressed laughter, and a harsh snort gets loose. The whole world feels sparkling and effervescent and so fucking good, and Kon abruptly pulls Keigo hard against him and kisses him, and kisses him, and kisses him.  
  
It goes on for what feels like forever. Eventually, their lips slide apart and they fall asleep, limbs going soft, breath coming out slow and even.  
  
Kon startles awake to see Ichigo squatting beside the bed, the perennial frown on his face. Keigo is tucked up against Kon, the little spoon, a lightly snoring body between Kon and Ichigo. It's still dark out, but light enough that Kon can see the frown—the morning is near.  
  
Swallowing hard, Kon steels himself. “Don't kick him out yet,” he whispers. “He can go in the morning.”  
  
Ichigo keeps frowning for a long minute, then he finally rolls his eyes. “Fine. I'm too tired to deal with him, anyway.” He scrubs his hand through his hair, and uncharacteristically asks, “Ready?”  
  
Kon squeezes Keigo gently and presses a furtive kiss to the back of his messy head. _No_ , he thinks. “Yeah.”  
  
Then he's back in the stupid lion body, and that is Ichigo up there, his arms wrapped around Keigo, his chest against his back. Jealousy flares up in Kon, and he stomps it down. He wanted it this way, after all.  
  
Ichigo sniffs, pulls a face. “Old man smell. Well, at least you showered, I guess.”  
  
Kon doesn't dignify that with a response. Instead, he clambers up onto the bed as carefully as he can, trying not to wake Keigo. He can already see the tension sapping out of Ichigo's body as he reaches the mattress, and he thinks Ichigo is asleep by the time he slips into the frame of Keigo's arms. It's a weird sandwich that Keigo's in the middle of, and he'll probably be confused when he wakes up, but... it's nice to feel Keigo's heartbeat thrumming through his stuffing, and to hear his soft breathing.  
  
He resolves to not be a nuisance to Ichigo tomorrow. It's rare, but Ichigo actually can be a nice guy, every now and again. And the thought that Keigo staying over sometimes might actually be okay is enough to send Kon off to sleep with a smile on his stupid plushie face.  
  
  
THE END

**Author's Note:**

> Kon's voice is stupid-fun to write. This pairing, as cracky as it is, is capslocky and SUPER fun, and is one of my very favorites. I have loads of headcanon for them XD
> 
> And a SFW picture I drew of them smooching: [here](https://imlikat.booru.org/index.php?page=post&s=view&id=90)


End file.
